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When Atsumu confides in Osamu that he wants to propose to his long-time boyfriend Kiyoomi, Osamu is ecstatic. When Atsumu asks Osamu if he’d be his best man, Osamu is over the moon--for more reasons than one. Finally, after years of waiting, Osamu can give a best man speech for his favorite--and only--baby brother. Of course, it has to involve making fun of Atsumu so much that he’ll barely be able to show his face in society ever again; what kind of brother would he be if he didn’t do at least that?
So after months of planning and then one long, stressful day of watching his brother and his husband cry in front of all of their family and friends (just the two of them. Osamu would never cry at his brother’s expense. Never), Osamu finds himself sitting to his brother’s left at the wedding party table in the middle of Atsumu and Kiyoomi’s wedding reception. The night’s been going fairly well, so Osamu is glad when Atsumu grabs the mic to introduce Osamu. This party could use some embarrassment, he decides. (Read: lots of embarrassment. Specifically, Atsumu and Kiyoomi’s.)
“It’s now tha’ time of the evening for me to hand the mic over to my best man and worst brother, Osamu,” Atsumu says into the mic before handing it off to Osamu, who grips it tightly as he flashes a grin at Atsumu that reads yer about to regret ever handing this mic to me for the rest of yer life. Atsumu gulps. Good.
Osamu stands and turns towards all of their family and friends seated around them, waiting for some heartfelt speech about how happy Osamu is for his brother for finally getting hitched. Osamu smirks. This should be fun.
“Hello,” he gives a little wave with his hand not occupied by the mic. “For those of ya who don’t know or are just really bad at recognizing faces, I’m Tsumu’s twin brother. He decided to make me the best man, which is the absolute worst decision he could’ve made, because I’m about to clown the shit out of him.”
“Babe,” Rintarou whispers from where he’s seated to Osamu’s left, “you can’t curse. There’s kids here.”
“Oh, really?” Osamu looks genuinely surprised. “Shit. I mean--” he clamps a hand over his mouth to keep himself from spewing even more swears for swearing because he was swearing. Like Matrioshka dolls, or whatever those things are called.
“I’m gonna make fun of him,” Osamu corrects sheepishly, avoiding eye-contact with Kiyoomi’s mother, who’s grown increasingly angry by the second. Well, Osamu thinks, she’s about to get much madder once I’m finished speaking. Oops
“So,” Osamu continues with an embarrassed chuckle, “for those of ya who don’t know me, I got married to my wonderful husband Rintarou,” he flashes his left hand, which sports a silver ring on his fourth finger, “oh…a few decades ago? Does that sound right, babe?” Osamu turns to Rintarou, who snorts.
“About seven years ago, but who’s really counting?” Rintarou answers, hiding his grin behind his laced fingers.
“Right, yes. Seven years. Well, the beautiful thing about us having gotten married seven years ago, is that we were all twenty-five with the mentality of five-year-olds, and not to point fingers or anything, but Tsumu and Kiyoomi-kun were the most guilty of this.”
“Rude,” Atsumu grumbles, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, his husband merely rolling his eyes.
“So at our wedding,” Osamu says, scratching his cheek with a light chuckle, “we stayed in these cabins at the edge of the woods. Kinda creepy in retrospect, but we thought we were being cool at the time. So once the day came to a close, Rintarou and I sat in our bed, y’know…reflecting on our marriage.” The adults in attendance chuckle.
“And we hear this banging noise on the door, which is never a good thing to hear when yer in a cabin in the woods, so Rin and I got kinda spooked.”
~
“Babe,” Rintarou whispers, clutching Osamu’s arm tightly. “Go and check the door to see if someone’s there.”
Osamu stares at his husband with a look of betrayal on his face. “We’ve been married for less than twenty-four hours and yer already tryna get me killed?” He hisses, judging Rintarou heavily.
“They could be in trouble!” Rintarou insists. “How would you feel if we opened the door tomorrow morning and found a corpse on our doormat?” Osamu gags lightly at the image before glaring at his husband again.
“Fine,” he grumbles, “but if I get killed by an ax murderer, I’m haunting yer ass.”
“Babe,” Rintarou rolls his eyes, “if you get killed, I’ll probably get killed, too.”
Osamu harumphs, refusing to acknowledge his husband’s logic, but slides out of their bed anyway. He pulls on the nearest pair of pajama pants, for decency reasons. Y’know, reflecting on your marriage, and all that.
Tip-toeing towards the door so as to not alert any ax murderers that might be attuned to the sound of someone walking on wood flooring but not opening a door in their face, Osamu stops and stares at the lock with a look that suggests he’s reevaluating his entire marriage--all fourteen hours of it.
“Just open the damn door,” Rintarou hisses, pulling the covers up nearly to his chin, leaning away from the said door.
“I’m gettin’ to it,” Osamu grumbles, sliding the deadbolt, and possibly signing his death warrant. He pulls the door open as slowly as possible to find…nothing.
“Hey, Rin?” Osamu asks, leaning his head out of the door slightly in case he missed something.
“Yeah?”
“‘M not seein’ anything,” he says, turning his head back inside before catching something out of the corner of his eye. “Wait.” Osamu whips his head back towards the forest and squints, catching a figure darting in and out of the trees.
“There’s someone there,” he murmurs, narrowing his eyes.
“An ax murderer?” Rintarou whispers in a terrified voice.
“I dunno,” Osamu says, before turning back inside and rummaging around their room. “I’m gonna go check it out,” he says, pulling on a jacket and some boots. “Stay here,” he tells Rintarou sternly, walking over to press a quick kiss to his husband’s lips, but Rintarou grabs the back of his neck and holds him there, deepening the kiss for a few seconds before letting up.
“Come back to me,” Rintarou says, looking scared, debauched, beautiful.
Osamu nods. “I love you,” he says like a promise, and grabs a flashlight before opening the door once again, stepping outside, and closing it behind him.
~
“So at this point,” Osamu says, bringing a glass of water up to his lips, “I was pretty freaked out, as I’m sure all of ya can imagine. I was tryna be this big, strong husband that took ax murderers head-on with nothing but a flashlight, but internally I was absolutely terrified.” Rintarou chuckles at that, patting his husband’s side with a wistful smile on his face.
“So,” Osamu continues, “it’s like the middle of the night and I’m followin’ this figure through the woods, kinda hoping that it’ll just vanish completely so I can say I tried my best and go back to Rin, but apparently, luck is not on yer side right after ya get married, cause whoever this person is walks into a cabin. Now I’m hit with the thought that I’m gonna have to go into the creepy cabin in the middle of the woods to find the mysterious figure who is also in the middle of the woods. Never a good thought to have.”
~
“Dammit,” Osamu curses as he watches the figure stumble inside the cabin, leaving the door cracked open. He walks closer now, gaining the courage to make his way up the creaky wooden stairs. Osamu stands on the porch and takes a deep breath in. “Ya got this,” he whispers to himself. “Do it for Rin.” Taking one last deep breath, he pushes the door open and steps inside.
The first thing he notices is the overwhelming scent of vomit, before noticing that there is, indeed, vomit all over the walls and floor of the cabin. The next thing he notices is a figure in the middle of the room--the same figure he’s been chasing throughout the woods--shaking another, possibly unconscious, possibly dead, person. Taking a closer look at both figures, Osamu groans.
“No fucking way.” He drags a hand down his face in frustration, walking closer to get a closer look at his brother Atsumu, shaking his unconscious boyfriend, Kiyoomi. Once the initial shock wears off, Osamu realizes that they’re both buck-naked, and both are covered in vomit. “Wha’ the fuck,” Osamu whispers to himself in disbelief, wondering if he’s hallucinating. He’s honestly not surprised at Atsumu being a part of this, but Kiyoomi? Surely, he must truly be hallucinating, because there’s no way that Sakusa Kiyoomi, one of the most put-together people Osamu has ever met, is currently lying on the floor of their cabin at Osamu’s own wedding, naked, unconscious, and covered in vomit. Surely not.
He turns to look at Atsumu, who’s started to shake his boyfriend in drunken terror.
“Help,” he cries, shaking Kiyoomi harder, “he won’ wake up, I think he’s dead.”
~
“So.” Osamu rubs his chin with a massive grin on his face as the audience laughs. Osamu makes note of those at the wedding party table; Rintarou is cackling, Atsumu and Kiyoomi are the same shade of maroon as Osamu’s high school jacket, Komori looks like he’s never laughed harder in his life, and Kiyoomi’s parents look two seconds away from blowing a gasket.
“As y’all can see,” Osamu speaks up, waiting for everyone to quiet down. “As y’all can see by the fact tha’ we’re at their wedding right now, Kiyoomi-kun didn’t die, but he did drink an absolutely ridiculous amount of alcohol, as did Tsumu, which led to them getting outrageously drunk at, again, my own wedding.
“So,” he finishes up, “if any of y’all feel like givin’ Tsumu and Kiyoomi-kun the same treatment, I don’t know their exact room number, but it’s somewhere on the east side of the hotel. I’m not sayin’ that ya’ll should do it, but if the opportunity presents itself, well, then…” Osamu grins devilishly at his brother, “I’ll be first in line to support y’all.”